


Cat’s Cradle

by Anonymous



Series: Cat’s Cradle [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Additional Pairings to be Added, Alternate Universe, Bondage, Collars, Dark Catelyn Stark, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Nudity, M/M, Manipulation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegging, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Catelyn Tully decides she wants two things: a pretty husband and a crown; and taking Winterfell is just the first step to achieving those goals.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark/Alannys Greyjoy
Series: Cat’s Cradle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034262
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Catelyn

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be very dark, so please go read the tags again before you start reading it.
> 
> Tags will be updated with every chapters, so make sure to check them out too! 
> 
> Any hate will be deleted.

Catelyn all but purred as she ran her fingers down the face of her conquest. 

Her family had not believed her when she told them she could take Winterfell without a siege. Her uncle had laughed, and her sister had scoffed, but what did that matter? She was the Lady of Riverrun, the Lady Paramount of the Riverlands, she knew her abilities and worth just as much as anyone.

And now before her knelt the Lord of Winterfell himself.

Or perhaps more accurately: the _new_ Lord of Winterfell. 

Brandon Stark and his siblings, all kneeling in a pretty little row, their hands manacled and their faces filled with horror.

Oh perhaps her tactics had been underhand, attacking after her people were inside Winterfell’s walls but before Guest Right had been offered, but they had certainly been effective. 

Brandon lifted his eyes to meet hers, a spark of defiance within them, “Why did you do this?”

Catelyn laughed and slapped his face with the hand that had been caressing his cheek, “Because I wanted to.”

“You- you wanted to take our home and kill our father?” The second son, Eddard, asked.

It had been a stroke of luck to take him, all her reports indicated that he was supposed to be fostering in the Vale but it seemed he had travelled home for a visit.

“Well, I more wanted to prove that I could.” Catelyn said in response, she turned to the boy who was the same age as her and yet seemed so _young,_ and took his hair in a harsh grip, “Everyone said I couldn’t, you see, said I was too weak to succeed. And besides, I was always told that the sons of Lord Stark were pretty, and I need a husband.”

Eddard’s eyes widened, as though he had never heard such a thing before. It was cute, how innocent he looked, it made Cat want to do horrible things to him.

“That’s horrific.” Brandon snarled. “Barbaric.”

Catelyn turned back to the older Stark, her hand still twined in Eddard’s hair.

“Is it? Tell me, what is so different about me deciding I wanted a pretty husband and invading to get one; and the countless wars fought over a man’s supposed claim on a pretty woman?”

Cat tugged on Eddard’s hair so he stumbled, his face landing against her leg for he was unable to put his hands out to steady himself.

She smiled sweetly at the daughter, Lyanna she thought her name was, as she saw her stiffen at Catelyn’s words.

“You really believe that?” The girl asked defiantly, “You really don’t see a difference?”

Catelyn forced Eddard’s face against her leg as she spoke, enjoying the heat of his panicked breaths through her skirts, “Why, there isn’t one. Just because I am a woman, it does not mean I don’t have wants of my own. And two of those wants happen to coincide: a pretty husband and to prove I’m strong enough to be Lady Paramount of the Riverlands.”

She yanked Eddard’s head back from her leg so she could look into his pretty eyes. His gasp of pain sent something through her, sent something akin to a bolt of lust through her veins.

She was definitely keeping Eddard Stark.

Catelyn turned to her uncle, “Have the younger two taken to their chambers and locked in. Set a guard on their doors but do not hurt them. If Lord Brandon promises to behave then he too can be locked in his chamber instead of a cell.”

Uncle Brynden raised an eyebrow but nodded, she’d proven herself enough that he would not question her, or at least he wouldn’t question her in public. “And Lord Eddard?”

Cat kept the painful grip on the young lord’s hair and allowed a hint of her lust to shine through with her smile, “Lord Eddard will be staying with me.” 

* * *

The Lord’s Chambers of Winterfell were surprisingly opulent considering the severity of the rest of the castle. There were rich furs on the floor and large tapestries on the walls, and small silver ornaments adorned the shelves. 

They weren’t as beautiful as the chambers at Riverrun, with their inlaid mosaics and views over the gardens; but they were beautiful nonetheless.

She directed the guard who had accompanied her to make Eddard kneel before the fire, she wasn’t so cruel as to make him freeze even while she questioned him in his recently deceased father’s bedchamber.

His hands were still bound as he knelt, and although Catelyn had dismissed the guard she untied his bonds anyway. It would be foolish for him to kill her, not when her people still had control of his castle and were guarding his family.

He leapt on her and pinned her to the floor, his hand tight around her neck almost the moment he was free, but Catelyn just laughed.

“Do it then.” She dared him, “Kill me and watch as your siblings are killed in front of you, their blood drying on the stones of your home just as your father’s is.”

He backed away with a horrified expression, as though he had not believed she would go so far.

“Now, Eddard Stark, I have questions for you, and you will answer them truthfully and promptly or I will send for your baby brother - Benjen I think his name is, am I right?”

Eddard stared at her with mute horror, and Cat sighed. It had been such an _easy_ question for him to start with as well.

“Very well, if that is your choice. I shall call for him then.”

“No!” Eddard gasped, “Please, no. Benjen is a babe.”

Catelyn smiled at his earnestness, it was almost cute how protective he was of his little brother.

“Only because I am kind, you may have one more chance. Now, tell me about your siblings.”

Eddard took a deep breath and a dullness entered his eyes, “Brandon is the oldest, he’s nineteen. Lyanna is fifteen, and Benjen is fourteen.”

“And you? Tell me pretty Eddard, how old are you?” 

He flinched at the way she caressed his name, but answered all the same, “Eighteen, my lady.”

“Very good.” Catelyn purred, she sat on one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire, “Come here.”

Eddard moved stiffly and with obvious reluctance, but he did move over to her, even kneeling by her side when she gestured for him to do so.

“Good boy.” She pulled his face to her lap again, having found she quite enjoyed the feeling and sight of it. “Now, sweet Eddard, are you or your siblings betrothed?”

“Lyanna is, my lady. To Robert Baratheon. Father had been trying to arrange betrothals for the rest of us; he had tried to arrange one between Brandon and your sister I believe.”

Catelyn carded her fingers through his hair, “Is that so? So if I took you to the Sept - or the Heart Tree I suppose for this is the North - then I would not insult any other family?”

Eddard let out a slight sigh, “No, my lady.”

“That’s very good.” Catelyn smiled, “You’ve been such a good boy to answer me so well.”

Eddard shivered slightly at the tone of her voice, an interesting reaction to say the least, and one Cat could certainly work with.

“I’m going to keep you, I think, Eddard. But tell me sweetling, is there another name I might call you? Eddard is such a mouthful.”

The sweetest flush reached his ears, although Cat was unsure whether it was a flush of rage or of embarrassment. Perhaps it was both.

“Ned, my lady.” He said in a voice so quiet she had to strain to hear it. “Everyone calls me Ned.”

“Ned.” Catelyn tried out the shape of the name in her mouth, it was one she could easily picture herself shouting out in the heat of the moment as she took him. “I do believe I’m going to keep you, Ned. I think you might be able to please me very well indeed.”

She just pictured him with a collar around his neck, or lying blissed out on her bed as she teased him into incoherence; and shuddered with lust. She wanted to take hold of his head and direct it beneath her skirts, wanted to force him to lap at her until she came all over his face, but that would be a step too far.

She didn’t want to fight Ned Stark every step of the way not when to make him love her would make her life easier in the future.

No, Catelyn reflected, as she stroked Ned’s hair once more and pressed his face against her lap, she would get far better results with patience. 

Eddard Stark would willingly submit to her when the time came, and it would be _glorious._

* * *

Catelyn slept very well, in the bed of the late Lord Rickard. There was something so satisfying about knowing that the first stage of her plan was complete, that the first steps towards putting a crown upon her brow had been so successful.

(And it had netted her a very pretty husband, which was truly a bonus.)

Her uncle had come to see her as she ate breakfast, with a report of what had happened while she was asleep. Apparently Brandon and Lyanna had cursed at the guards early the whole night, and banged on their doors, but had not truly attempted an escape. 

Benjen had been quiet, likely scared and mourning his father. He would probably be a good companion for Lysa, they were of the same age, and she needed to start being a little more assertive in case she had to step up as Catelyn’s heir.

Catelyn could not stay in Winterfell for long, not when she had so much more to prepare, so many more plans to complete, but she could not leave without ensuring that Brandon would not call his armies down upon her when she left.

She had him brought to her and her war council, to the chamber which had once been his father’s office.

It was obvious that he had not slept, for there were dark circles beneath his eyes and a weariness to his gait. Yet his shoulders were stiff and there was a hopeless defiance in his face, one which made Catelyn want to slap him.

She refrained though, it would not do to have the Lord of Winterfell going around with a bruise the same shape as her hand on his face, not when so much of her plans still relied on the element of surprise. 

“Here is what is going to happen, Lord Brandon. You shall remain here in Winterfell, acting as though nothing has happened except for you father dying of sudden illness. You will say that you sent your younger siblings away to Riverrun to keep them safe. You will make no mention of the true events that have transpired unless you want me to slit the throats of Lyanna and Benjen.” 

Catelyn made sure to hold Brandon Stark’s gaze throughout, so she could be sure he could see just how serious she was. To her joy the defiance drained out of him at the mention of his siblings’ deaths, a reaction she had hoped would happen for it meant he took her threats seriously. 

“I shall take Eddard and Lyanna with me to the tourney at Harrenhal, once more with the understanding that should someone mention the true events, then Benjen will be killed.” She continued, “If however you work with me, I can promise that your siblings will be treated with all the respect that they are owed by their titles, and the North itself will prosper with the aid of the Riverlands farms.”

Brandon’s eyes closed in resignation, he knew he had no choice, “Yes, my lady.”

Catelyn smiled, one kingdom down, seven to go.


	2. Catelyn

Catelyn still had not touched Ned Stark the way she truly wanted to. Oh she played with his hair, and made him kneel at her side, and kissed him, but she did not make him pleasure her in the way she desperately wanted to.

No, she was being patient, eventually he would come to her and ask for her to use him. She just had to wait.

Lysa had taken to Benjen, just as Cat had hoped, and she was slowly becoming more assertive just as Catelyn had hoped. She had even started to assert herself over Petyr, which really was just ideal as Cat had been worried about his influence on her. 

“Ned,” Cat called, “Come here, I have need of you.”

She grinned as she heard the familiar footsteps padding towards her, bringing with them a sight she would likely never get bored of. 

Ned looked so much better out of those drab leathers he had worn in the North, so much better draped in the silks and colours of her House.

She was already dressing him like she would if he was her husband, for he would be soon enough. She would take him before the Septon, would say the words and place her cloak on his back and he would be grateful for it. 

“There you are,” She smiled sweetly at him, “Such a good boy for me, come kneel by me.”

He barely hesitated now before kneeling, it was so normal for him, for Cat refused to let him sit on a chair in her presence.

She had to be sure that he wouldn’t try and wrest control from her when they were wed. She had to be sure that he knew his place.

Her hand fell straight to the top of his head, the soft feel of his hair comforting to her. He pressed slightly into her touch, which made Catelyn’s smile widen, Ned was accepting his place and if she was right then it would not be long before she could use him properly. 

“Now, my sweet boy, I am going to speak and you are going to listen, and listen carefully.”

“Yes, my lady.” Ned breathed, his eyes half lidded and his shoulders relaxed from the repetitive motions of her hand.

“Now, I shall be taking you and your sister with me to the Tourney at Harrenhal, it would be strange if your family was not present at such a prestigious event after all. You will remain by my side, and if asked you will say you are my betrothed. Do you understand?”

Ned lifted his head and looked directly at her, “Yes, my lady.”

Catelyn could not resist pressing a kiss to his unresisting mouth, he just looked so delectable looking up at her with slightly hazy grey eyes.

“Lyanna may explore a little more, but her behaviour will affect how you are treated. If she misbehaves then you will be punished in her stead, and if she tells anyone about the true circumstances of me _acquiring_ you then Benjen will be executed.” She kept her voice light and sweet, in a complete contrast to her cruel words. “If however you both behave impeccably then I will arrange a reward for you.”

Ned turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to Catelyn’s palm, “Thank you, my lady, you are as fair and kind as you are beautiful.”

He was a quick learner, that was for sure, quick to learn what to say to Cat to make her happy. And for all she knew that was what he was doing, it still made Catelyn happy, for it was a type of intelligence that would serve her well in the future and be excellent to pass on to their eventual children. 

“Good boy.” Catelyn caressed his hair once more, and thought about how she might reward him for listening so well while also furthering her aim.

She pulled him up, so he was standing, and then yanked him forwards so he was straddling her lap.

His face twisted in discomfort at the change to their usual routine, but he soon settled down as she rubbed his back and cooed soothingly at him.

She trailed a hand down his chest and carefully slipped it into his breeches so she could grasp his pleasantly thick cock.

He gasped and clutched at her, his eyes wide and his breath escaping in short pants as she started to move her hand, his cock hardening in her grip.

“Please.” He whined, high pitched and desperate, “My lady, please.”

“You are such a good boy for me Ned,” Cat crooned, “This is a reward for being so good, for listening so well.”

She twisted her hand and was rewarded with a spurt of pre from the tip; his mouth opened slightly in pleasure and he let out the sweetest little gasp. 

Cat removed her hand just long enough to put some of the cream she kept for her skin onto her palm to make the passage of her hand easier, before wrapping it around his cock again.

He gasped again as she moved her hand, and his hips started rocking gently into her.

“Please!” He whimpered, and Catelyn could not resist the sight of his pretty face much longer.

She used her other hand to pull his face to her, and she kissed him hard. He parted his lips for her as she nipped at his lips, and she could just tell that the combination of sensations were overwhelming him.

“There’s a sweet boy.” She breathed into his mouth, “Come for me, my pretty Ned.”

He whined and she felt him pulse in her hand, a sticky warmth spreading across her skin. He relaxed against her, slumping as he came down from the intensity of his orgasm; and Catelyn grinned smugly at the sight. 

He was so very pretty, his face slack in pleasure and Catelyn could not help herself from kissing him again.

“Such a good boy for me, well done.”

Ned blinked at her slowly, and his lips curled up into the sweetest hint of a smile, “Thank you, my lady.”

* * *

  
The tourney was certainly a success for its host, that was for sure. Lords and Ladies from across Westeros had come to attend, and even the King himself had chosen to watch the event. 

Catelyn made sure to evaluate every Lord she came across, not just for the riches and strength they projected, but also for any which she would wish to add to her collection of pretty things.

As agreed Ned had stuck to her side as she made the rounds, almost perfectly acting the part of a grieving son and a doting betrothed. Lyanna’s acting was less impressive, but as she seemed to mostly confine her actions to a boy from the Neck, Catelyn was not too concerned. 

Especially with the sword hanging over Benjen Stark’s neck.

“My Lady,” Ned spoke up, one of the few times he had volunteered any words of his own accord, “May I visit my foster father and foster brother? Only I am sure they worried about me and it would be good to put their fears at rest.”

Catelyn carefully hid her smile at the thought of Ned smoothing over concern that others might have for his situation without being ordered. She wouldn’t show it, not when she was sure she could gain something extra from him first. 

“And what is in it for me, sweetling? What do you offer me for such a favour?” She gently caressed his face and watched as she could see the thoughts in his head dancing across his skin.

“What would you like in payment, my lady?” He finally said, opting for the safe option instead of volunteering one of his own.

It was a little disappointing, but it was something Cat could work with. 

“Use your mouth to pleasure me and I will allow it.” She ordered, and savoured the look of confusion on his face.

They had no pressing engagements to get to, merely the squire jousts which were rarely watched in any case. They wouldn’t of be missed if she took him back to her tent to show him what she meant.

And so she did.

She sat in the grand wooden chair that was her own, one carved with trout and bats and waterlilies. Automatically Ned sank to his knees by her side, on the rug she had brought especially for him. 

That and the anticipation of what was to come was enough to get her wet.

She lifted her skirts enough that he could see her small clothes, and took hold of his head. 

“Use your tongue to make me come. If it’s as clever as your mind then it should not take long at all.”

Ned glanced up at her with unsure eyes, but dutifully leant forwards and started to lap at her folds, one of his hands holding aside her small clothes. 

Catelyn jolted at the first tentative touch of his tongue against her folds, at the heat of his breaths against her and she had to fight not to just pin him down and rode his tongue to completion.

She had to be careful still, patient, and let him associate her touch with kindness and pleasure rather than fear. 

His tongue brushed over her clit and a moan escaped her mouth.

“Good boy.” She moaned as he did it again, “Sweet Ned.”

He moaned into her, the vibrations rocking through her pleasantly. 

Catelyn’s hands found his hair and she pushed his face closer in to her, her hips started to rock slightly, and she could feel the pleasure building as he started to circle her clit with his tongue. 

“Ned,” She moaned again, “Right there, good boy.”

Her rocking became more frantic as the pleasure started to crest, and Ned’s tongue didn’t stop even when she shuddered and came.

She used his hair to pull him away when the sensation started to become too much. 

“Good boy.” She gasped, looking down at his slick coated cheeks and his swollen lips, “Good, sweet Ned.”

He made to wipe his face off with his hand, but Catelyn stopped him. She knew he couldn’t go in public like that (not yet) but she wanted a moment more to just look at such a pretty sight.

“You’re so good for me, Eddard.” Catelyn smiled, “You’ve earned your visit to your foster father. Would you like me to accompany you so that you are not tempted to slip up and put your brother’s life in danger?”

Ned blinked slowly and his tongue darted out to lick at his lips, “Please, my lady, if it is not too much trouble?”

“Of course not, sweetling.”

Catelyn stood and found a cloth to wash herself with, one she rewetted once she had finished with it and handed to Ned to wipe his face. 

She curled her hand around Ned’s elbow and allowed him the illusion of leading her out of the tent and to the lodgings of Lord Arryn. 

* * *

Jon Arryn was an old man, his hair already white with age and his face lined with decades of laughter and frowns.

“Ned!” He held his arms out to his ward, and Catelyn fought the urge to hide _her_ Ned behind her where the lord could not reach him.

But to do so would draw unwanted attention, and so Catelyn had to release Ned to his embrace.

“We’ve been worried about you, lad.” The Lord said, “We heard about the death of Rickard and we all mourn with you; but we were certainly confused when Brandon wrote to say he had sent you and your siblings to Riverrun instead of back to me.”

Ned looked up at his foster father with a love that ignited a spark of jealousy in Cat. She wanted to be the only one who Ned looked at so adoringly.

“My father had been in the process of arranging my betrothal to Lady Tully at the time of his death, and Brandon thought it prudent to continue those negotiations. He sent me to confirm the betrothal and get to know Lady Tully before our wedding.”

Lord Arryn’s eyes moved to Cat then, his blue gaze making her feel like she was being assessed for her suitability.

“Lady Tully,” He released Ned and offered her a slight bow, “I was sorry to hear of the loss of your father as well.”

Catelyn pasted on her court smile, the one which made everyone underestimate her and think her as vapid and silly as a spoilt girl.

“Thank you for your sympathy, Lord Arryn, I must say that the presence of Ned and his siblings has certainly helped make Riverrun feel like home again. Lord Benjen especially, he’s so lively.”

Ned’s smile became a little fixed at the mention of his brother, but it was what he had asked for, to be reminded of their deal.

“I am pleased. It is always terrible when someone is forced into a lordship so young.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Ned agreed with his mentor, a spark of defiance in his eyes, “I know Brandon feels terribly unprepared for the burden which has been placed upon his shoulders.”

Ned would pay for his defiance later. Catelyn would make sure of it. 

“Ned!” The loud voice of a man who could only be Robert Baratheon rang across the clearing in which they stood, “Where have you been hiding you absolute madman?”

If Catelyn had felt a spark of jealousy at Jon Arryn it erupted into an inferno when Robert Baratheon scooped Ned up in his arms effortlessly. 

“Hello Robert.” Ned grinned, the first true happiness that Catelyn had seen from him lacing his grin, “Have you had fun causing wanton mayhem without me acting as your conscience?”

“You know I did Ned.”

It seemed that Robert Baratheon could not do anything quietly, for he burst into great booming laughter that somehow seemed to echo.

It was a laughter that Catelyn desperately wanted to silence, to direct that energy so it was aimed at pleasing her instead of deafening bystanders.

She just had to be patient. Soon she would have the power to do that. 

“Come along,” Lord Arryn said fondly, “We don’t want to miss the final joust, not when the winner will be crowned.”

Ned and Baratheon both jumped to attention like little puppies under their mentor’s words, and really it was sickening to see. The only one they should be treating like that was _Cat_.

She was going to enjoy the sight of Jon Arryn’s blood seeping from his neck and into the mud. 

But still, as she kept reminding herself, she had to be patient. She had to take Ned’s offered arm and smile nicely and allow herself to be led to the stand where Lyanna was already waiting for them. 

Catelyn paid little attention to the rounds of jousting itself, that was not why she was there. Instead she focused on the others in the stands, the ones with pretty enough faces and good enough names that she might choose to keep once her plans had come to fruition. She was just contemplating the small delegation from the Iron Islands when a crash drew her attention to the arena.

The prince had won, his opponent had fallen to the floor with a crash of armour, and cheers filled the air. 

Prince Rhaegar collected his congratulations and the wreath he was promised from his father, and pranced around the stadium, making a show of looking for his Queen of Love and Beauty.

Dead silence filled the stadium as Prince Rhaegar’s horse stopped at the stand in which Cat was sat. Lyanna leaned forwards in her chair eagerly, as everyone waited to hear what the Crown Prince would say.

“As winner it is my honour to crown the Queen of Love and Beauty,” Prince Rhaegar called out in a soft yet clear voice, “Lady Lyanna of House Stark, would you accept this offer?”

He bowed in his saddle and held out a wreath of winter roses. 

Lyanna stood, her gaze transfixed on the Prince’s face, “I would be honoured, my prince.”

She curtsied and took the wreath from his outstretched hand. And as she did so outrage erupted in the stands, especially from the Dornish tents.

Prince Rhaegar had just humiliated his wife in front of the assembled lords of Westeros, and there would certainly be a reckoning for it. 

Not that the Prince himself seemed aware of it.

Rhaegar’s horse pranced away, the silver prince’s face filled with an unpleasant smugness. 

There was humiliation on Princess Elia’s face, anger on Robert Baratheon’s, and a flattered pleasure on Lyanna’s as her hand reached up to touch the blue roses adorning her head. 

And a simmering bloodlust aimed at Rhaegar Targaryen started to burn in Catelyn’s heart. 

* * *

All anyone could talk about was the crown of roses Prince Rhaegar had given Lyanna, there was no other topic anyone wished to discuss. 

It filled Cat with rage, the knowledge that someone else had displayed an interest in *her* property. And every time she remembered the resigned look on Princess Elia’s face that rage grew. 

It made her harden her resolve, for a man to be able to so casually dismiss his wife, to so casually humiliate her in public and face no consequences, that was the sort of man who should not be allowed to take the throne. 

She had wanted to take Lyanna and go apologise to Elia, to make the girl grovel at the feet of the woman she had had a hand in humiliating. 

Oh Cat knew that wasn’t fair, but she could hardly force Rhaegar to apologise, and maybe Lyanna’s would make Princess Elia feel better.

(And if she had vague plans in her mind about Elia Martell joining her in Riverrun, well she would not admit them yet but it would still be good to make a positive first impression.)

“Where is Lyanna?” Catelyn could not see the headstrong girl, “Where has she gone?”

The little Craggon boy that Lyanna had befriended was the only one to speak up, a fearlessness in his eyes.

“She said the Prince wanted to speak to her, my lady.”

Catelyn wanted to scream in rage, how dare the chit go and speak to someone as powerful as the prince without asking Catelyn’s permission first? 

Ned flinched slightly at the anger on her face, which served to calm her. At least one of them knew just how much trouble Lyanna was going to be in; Cat could only hope for Ned’s sake that Lyanna had not been so stupid to tell the prince the truth.

“Go and find her.” She hissed to her uncle and two guards, “And bring her back here immediately.”

They left with a satisfying haste, and Ned pressed himself closer to Cat.

It was an obvious tactic to calm her, and she was not ashamed to say that it _worked_. 

“Please,” He murmured, looking at her with those beautiful wide grey eyes, “She’s just a girl, please don’t be too harsh on her.”

Catelyn curled her hand around his arm and pressed her lips close to his ear; to anyone passing by they might just have appeared to be two young lovers. 

“No matter how prettily you beg my sweet; no matter how you try to placate me; I promise you this: if your dear sister has told anyone about me then you will watch as your baby brother’s head falls from his shoulders to the mud below.” 

Ned’s face paled, “Please, not Benjen, please.”

“I have been clear with you from the start, sweetling, perhaps you should start to prepare yourself. One way or another one of your siblings will be punished for this; it’s up to Lyanna whether it’s merely a whipping or an execution that you will witness.”

His eyes dropped away from hers, falling to the floor submissively. “As you say, my lady.”

Catelyn wanted to force his glum face beneath her skirts once again, but they were in public and such a thing would cause a terrible scandal. 

“Cat,” Uncle Brynden ran back to her with a panicked expression, “Prince Rhaegar is gone, and from what people are saying, he took Lyanna with him.” 

Catelyn felt her lip pull back in a snarl as she registered what that meant. As she register that it meant that Prince Rhaegar had stolen Lyanna from her.

How dare anyone take _her_ property? Catelyn did not care that Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, nor that Rhaegar Targaryen was the Crown Prince, Lyanna Stark was _hers_ and the pampered prince would pay with blood for stealing her. 


	3. Eddard

It seemed that there was a constant thread of fear running through Ned’s veins. He was scared of Catelyn Tully and what she would do to his siblings if he disobeyed her; just as he was scared of what was happening to Lyanna and why she had disappeared with Prince Rhaegar.

He could guess why she had run off, he knew she chafed at being so confined under Catelyn’s thumb, knew she looked upon Robert with derision and wanted out of that betrothal, but it was difficult to think that she might have chosen her freedom over the safety of he and Benjen.

Or perhaps he was being unfair, perhaps she had been kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar, after all Lyanna was only fifteen while the prince was at least a decade older than her. It would have been easy for him to take Lyanna, especially since few would go against the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

Either way he knew that nothing good was going to happen when Catelyn found her again. 

Ned always unwittingly shivered when a slim hand was placed on the back of his neck, it was getting harder to remember why he disliked it so. Getting harder to remember to resist instead of to just submit.

Catelyn was never cruel or coarse, her touches were usually gentle and it was rare that they were anything more than tugging on his hair or caressing his face. 

And when she did go further her voice was always full of praise for him, and her hands always made sure he felt pleasure as well.

It would have been easier if she had been harsh from the start. If she had demanded he fulfill her every whim from the start. If she had forced him to accept every one of her advances, no matter how improper or crude.

Instead she seemed to be almost wooing him, like he was some scared maiden. And Ned was ashamed to admit that it was almost working. 

He found himself unconsciously leaning into her touches, found himself turning to her when she walked into the room, found himself desperately wanting to hear a word of praise from her.

It was terrifying and yet no matter how much Ned fought against it he could not stop it. 

He had tried to face his feelings, to sort them out while she had been gone, while she had rode to the capital to demand the return of Lyanna, but neither of them had had much success. She had barely escaped with her life and by the time she had returned Ned had only become more confused with what he felt for the Lady of Riverrun. 

“Ned!” His name rang out through the halls and he hurried to its source. Catelyn did not like to be kept waiting, and she was always clear about making her displeasure known. 

She was in her chamber, the one she ostensibly slept in by herself. The one where Ned had found himself curled on the end of her bed like a dog before.

“My lady.” He did not meet her eyes. He did not like to, for her eyes scared him.

“Ned,” Catelyn said petulantly, “Come here.”

She gestured to the floor by her side, to the cushion that lay upon the floor, and Ned stifled a sigh. It seemed she would have him kneel beside her again, he did not know why she liked it so much, only that it was her favourite position for him.

He knelt, and almost immediately found her hand carding through his hair. Unwillingly he found himself being soothed by the motion, it’s gentle repetitiveness almost sending him into a trance. 

“You are such a good boy for me Ned.” Catelyn praised, and Ned felt himself relax even further under the combination of praise and gentle touch.

“Thank you, my lady.” He had learned early on that Catelyn liked him to respond to her, that she would get angry if he did not.

“Such a sweet boy,” Her voice abruptly turned harsh and her fingers jerked painfully at his hair. “Unlike that sister of yours. When I get my hands on her she is going to rue the day she decided to run away.”

Ned winced, at the pain and at her declaration to hurt Lyanna. He did not doubt that she would, after all this was the woman who had invaded another kingdom and killed his father all so she could take him as her pet.

He swallowed and set his shoulders, he had been prepared for battle nearly all his life, had been taught the fine art of diplomacy and working with others. This would be a battlefield, for all it was not traditional, and he would do all he could to win if it meant keeping Lyanna and Benjen safe. 

“My lady,” He whispered, as he tilted his head up to look at her with wide eyes, eyes that Brandon and Robert had each once said made him look like a begging pup, “Please, do not be too harsh on Lyanna. She is still a child, a child who had been manipulated and stolen by the prince. I am certain she did not mean to run.”

Catelyn let go of his hair. She looked down at him. And a cruel smile twisted her pretty mouth. 

“Is that the tactic you are trying now? Convincing me that your headstrong sister was taken like some delicate flower? Really Eddard, I thought better of you.”

Ned swallowed down his rising panic, she only ever used his full name now when she was displeased with him. He didn’t want her to be displeased with him, that would mean that he had failed.

He pressed his cheek against her knee, knowing she liked it when he did, “Please, she is fifteen. No one makes good decisions when they are fifteen. Please.”

He knew he looked pathetic. He knew that if Robert could see him he would be in fits of laughter. He did not care. 

“Please.” He beseeched again, “There must be something I might trade you for my siblings’ safety.”

The cruel smile widened, showing Catelyn’s white teeth, and Ned had the unsettling feeling he was staring a predator in the mouth.

“Anything you say? Very well, there is an agreement we might come to.”

* * *

Ned did not care for the Sept, nor for the droning of the Septon. The scent of incense irritated his nose and the light coming through the stained glass illuminated the dust motes swirling through the air in a most distracting way. 

He did not believe in the Seven, had never felt the same spirituality in a Sept that he did in the Godswood of Winterfell. But he could appreciate the beauty at least. 

And it was easier to focus on the beauty of the Sept than the words the Septon was saying. Easier to focus on his surroundings than the ceremony he had been forced into.

“I am his and he is mine.” Catelyn said smoothly her hands clasped around his own. The combination of her voice and the way she squeezed his hands as she spoke drew his attention back to what was happening.

The Septon turned to Ned with an expectant expression and Ned could just feel the heat and promise in Catelyn’s eyes if he did not do as he was supposed to. 

“I am hers and she is mine.” He whispered, the words like ash in his mouth.

The Septon smiled at them both, either unable to sense the underlying power dynamics or unaffected by them.

“You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” He said with an affable tone. 

And well, perhaps it was ignorance after all if he was unaware of the change to the ceremony that Catelyn had demanded. 

She nodded at Benjen, who darted forwards with a sweet eagerness. He unclasped the cloak from around Ned’s shoulders, the Stark sigil upon it hidden within the folds of white cloth.

His shoulders felt light without the cloak upon them and he shivered; although whether it was caused by the cool air of the Sept or the knowledge of what was to come next, Ned did not know. 

Catelyn reached up and took off her own red and blue cloak, and in a smooth movement swung it over Ned’s shoulders. It encased him in a waft of her scent, and a strangely comforting warmth. 

He felt possessed, and for some reason that feeling of possession was reassuring. He felt owned, in a way that was not entirely unpleasant.

“With this kiss I pledge my love.” Catelyn said, and as soon as Ned had echoed her she leaned forwards and pulled him into a domineering kiss, nipping at his lips so that he would allow her entry.

His lips felt swollen and warm when she finally let him go, and Ned should have felt humiliated by the knowledge that his baby brother and more than half the lords of the Riverlands had seen him so easily used by Catelyn but he did not. 

It was scary how quickly this had all become so normal to him.

She took him by the hand and led him back down the aisle, out to the courtyards of Riverrun and then to the gardens where a feast of sorts awaited them.

It was not a grand feast, not when they were preparing for war, but it was a feast nonetheless.

Fish were piled high on the tables, cooked in every way that Ned knew of and then more besides that; bowls of water greens were dotted among them, their peppery taste a staple of Riverlands food. 

Before he had been taken by Catelyn, before he had been dragged to the Riverlands he had never eaten so much fish, had never seen so much fish if he was to be honest, not even on a trip to White Harbour.

He followed Catelyn to the seats of honour, carved chairs placed beneath a silk canopy of red and blue. Before them laid plates of silver, and platters of the choicest food.

Including, to Ned’s mingled horror and delight, the familiar twists of Northern Wedding Bread, a sweet bread stuffed with dried fruits and nuts. 

“I thought you might like a treat, on such an auspicious day.” Catelyn said, her tone sinisterly kind.

Ned mumbled out his thanks, and mechanically ate all that Catelyn placed upon his plate. It felt like ash in his mouth, he was too horrified by what had happened, and what it meant for his future.

There was so very little chance of ever escaping Catelyn, not now that they were married under the eyes of gods and men. He was stuck, he had bound himself to a lifetime at her side, but he would do it again to protect Lyanna and Benjen.

He remained seated as Catelyn made a speech, retrained seated as the pie was cut open to reveal a flock of starlings, remained seated as music started to play and a dance floor cleared. 

He only stood up when Catelyn ordered him to and left him to the dance floor. His lessons, the ones he had learnt spinning around the halls of Winterfell balanced on his mother’s toes, kicked in and he started to dance with her with an automatic grace. 

It was tempting to pretend to be a terrible dancer, but any humiliation he caused Catelyn would be brought back upon him a hundredfold, that he had already been reassured. 

He danced with every lady that Catelyn ordered him to, until his feet ached and he was nearly begging for a respite. A respite that came with an unwelcome and rowdy cry. 

“It’s time for the bedding!”

A mass cheer followed the cry from some drunken lord, and the ladies which Catelyn had invited surged upon Ned with predatory looks and grasping hands. 

They dragged him up to Catelyn’s chamber, their hands groping at him and fondling him and their words crude. He was pushed through the door, his tattered remains of his pride and dignity wrapped around him like a blanket. Catelyn was already waiting for him, with nary a hair out of place and a strange smile on her face. 

There were strange objects upon the bed, objects obviously placed there by Catelyn: a mess of leather straps, a small tub, and an oblong object wrapped in cloth. 

Ned did not understand. His knowledge of fucking came from Robert’s boasts and the stiff talk about honouring his future bride that his father had had with him before he went to the Eyrie. And none of those had mentioned the equipment that Catelyn had placed upon the bed.

“Strip.” She ordered him, a simple order and one which Ned had done for her before. 

He neatly folded his clothing upon a chair, aware that Catelyn, that his  _ wife _ , did not like mess.

“Good.” She purred, and held out a hand for him, “Come here, lay down upon the bed for me, my sweet Ned.”

He took a deep breath and did as she bade. The coverlet was soft against his bare skin, and still strange in texture with how different it was compared to the furs used in the North and the Vale. 

He knew his mind was focusing on anything but what was going to happen to him, but cared little about it.

She clambered on to the bed, straddling him with her red hair inbound and brushing his chest. 

“Relax.” She said, as she pushed a pillow under his hips, “Relax and this will feel good to you.”

Ned swallowed again and forced his body to relax, he did not want to be there, did not want whatever Catelyn was planning, but he wanted his siblings hurt even less.

His eyes slid closed. He did not want to see what was coming. 

The cool touch of a slim finger had his eyes flying open again, and he could feel his breath starting to come in panicked pants as the finger trailed up through the cleft of his buttocks.

“Wh- What-“ He gasped as she started to circle slowly around his hole, “What are you doing?”

Catelyn smiled down at him “Relax, Ned. It won’t hurt if you just relax.”

That was certainly easier said than done, but slowly he managed to relax as the finger continued to circle.

“Good boy. There’s my sweet boy.” Catelyn breathed as he relaxed, a praise that only made his muscles relax further.

The finger dipped in, and for the first time Ned noticed that it was coated with some slick substance.

Emboldened by the lack of resistance offered by his muscles the finger slipped in even further. It was a strange feeling, but not as unpleasant as he otherwise might have thought.

In fact, the gentle movement of the finger was almost pleasant, and he could feel himself relaxing further around it.

“Sweet boy.” Catelyn crooned, “So very good for me.”

A second finger, as cool and slick as the first, slipped in, and Ned gasped from the stretch. A low burn filled his senses, and a sensation of almost absolute fullness.

Catelyn was kind though, as much as he hated to admit it, she paused and let him adjust to the stretch, only moving her fingers again when he had relaxed once more. 

She twisted and pressed and Ned let out a high whine when she brushed against something that sent a bolt of pleasure through him.

“Have I found your pleasure spot my sweet husband?” Catelyn smiled, “Do you want more?”

To his shame Ned did want more. He wanted to feel that pleasure again, and quite without his permanent his legs spread a little more and his hips tilted up.

Catelyn laughed in delight and Ned felt another finger stretching his entrance, “Such an eager boy for me, just a little longer and then I’ll fuck you the way you deserve.” 

Fear mixed with lust ran through his veins, he wanted more and yet he was scared of what else she was going to do, of what else she would put inside him.

A hand grasped his cock, one that quickly stroked him to hardness. 

“Please. Please. Please.” He whimpered, his hips moving back and forth as he tried to chase his pleasure.

Catelyn merely pressed a kiss to his slack mouth, licking in and swallowing his groan of pleasure as she twisted her hands at the same time.

“I think you are ready, my sweet.” Catelyn pressed another kiss to his mouth before removing her hands from him entirely.

Ned let out a whimper as she pulled out, as she left him feeling suddenly empty. It was a whimper that prompted another laugh from her, a laugh with just the slightest hint of mockery.

Something blunt pressed against his hole, blunt and smooth and feeling far bigger than the three of Catelyn’s fingers had. 

It pressed forwards with an inexorable force; spreading him wide and filling him. A dull throb started to radiate from around the object, and he could feel his erection start to wilt. 

“Sweet Ned.” Catelyn groaned as she pushed further into him, “So good for me.”

A whine of pain left his throat as he was spread further the more she pushed in, a whine that Catelyn eagerly swallowed with a bruising kiss.

And then it brushed against that spot that had filled him with pleasure before. He bucked into her hold, searching for more stimulation and could not hold in the moan that burst from his lips. 

A moan that Catelyn took as permission to move faster. She thrust the object in fully, stretching Ned more than he had ever been stretched before. 

He panted around it, only to let out another moan when she drew it out and re-angled it so she was brushing against his pleasure spot. 

He could feel the pleasure start to crest again, and unwilling pleasure, one that seemed to steal all of Ned’s reason. 

He rocked his hips against her, trying to meet her thrusts, trying to get more of the pleasure she was giving him, and as he did so she started to moan as well. 

Her thrusts became erratic and her hips stuttered as her moans reached a new crescendo and she came. 

Her teeth sank into his shoulder as she came, and the sharp pain overrode everything else. Ned cried out with the pain, a cry that seemed to make Catelyn come even harder and her teeth sink even deeper. 

“Sweet Ned.” She breathed, once her teeth were unlatched, “Spilling your maiden’s blood for me.”

Her finger caressed the bleeding bite mark, leaving no uncertainty as to the blood to which she was referring. 

Ned closed his eyes and fought back the sob that wanted to escape as his pleasure waned and his cock softened once more. He felt dirty and used and just wanted to forget the way his muscles ached and the raw feeling around the object still lodged inside him. 

* * *

Ned knew he was limping slightly, his shoulder throbbed where the bite had begun to scab over and he could feel bruises on his hips smarting from where Catelyn had dug her fingers in.

He was unsure what was worse, the pity sent his way by the maids, or the knowingly amused look from Catelyn’s uncle. Both made humiliation pool in his gut, but there was something especially horrible about the amusement.

Catelyn had told him that he was to attend the War Council that was taking place in one of Riverrun’s many halls, and Ned obeyed. He was to represent her in the alliance to remove the Targaryens from the throne.

She had leveraged Robert’s betrothal to gain the support of the Stormlands, and the friendship that had existed between Jon Arryn and Ned’s father to gain the support of the Vale. Her own blackmail of Brandon, and the marriage she had forced Ned into to ensure the safety of his siblings from her wrath gained her the North. 

Catelyn had timed the wedding perfectly, to bind him to her before Brandon and the other High Lords arrived. Ned wondered how much of that was so that she would be free to run the ceremony how she had desired, and how much of it was to stake her claim permanently before his friends and family arrived. 

He stopped dead when he saw who was waiting for him in the hall he had been directed to, as he saw Brandon stood there looking tired but otherwise no worse than he had the lat time they had spoken. 

“Ned.” There was such relief and love on Brandon’s face that Ned felt like he was five again and had just tripped in the courtyard, “Come here.”

He held out his arms, inviting Ned for a hug, and Ned could not resist the offer. He had missed Brandon, the way he seemed to know what to do. He was sure that if  _ Brandon _ had been held by Catelyn he would have managed to ensure Lyanna and Benjen’s safety without selling himself into marriage.

“I’ve got you.” Brandon whispered into his hair, “I have you Neddy, it’s alright.”

Ned curled into his arms, savouring the feeling of safety that his older brother offered. 

“I missed you.” Ned whispered back, “I’m so tired.”

Brandon’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Neddy.” 

They certainly would not have much time alone together, Catelyn did not trust that they wouldn’t try and plan an escape or rebellion against her. 

It was difficult to fight back the tears that wanted to fall, but Ned did so. They would only cause Brandon pain.

Brandon’s arms shifted, and Ned could not contain his gasp of pain as he brushed against the bite on his shoulder.

“Ned?” Brandon’s voice was filled with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Ned stepped away and did not look in his brother’s eyes as he lowered the shoulder of his tunic so Brandon could see the wound.

“Oh Ned,” Brandon sounded like he was about to cry, “I’m so sorry. I should have done anything other than let her take you.”

Ned let his brother draw him back into a hug, and rest his forehead against Ned’s own.

“If you want me to raise the North against her then I can.” Brandon whispered, his voice soft enough that even though they were next to each other Ned had to strain to hear him, “I can steal you away from her so she can’t hurt you ever again.” 

It was so very tempting. So tempting to just let his brother take control and solve everything.

But that would lead to so many deaths, it might lead to the loss of his siblings, and it would be selfish to let the small folk die so that Ned could escape.

His choice was taken away from him by the door opening, and a whisper of blue skirts made the two of them spring apart. 

“I see you two have reunited.” Catelyn said with a cruel smile, “Good. Ned, to me.”

She held out her arm and Ned had no choice but to take it. 

Not even Brandon would be able to save him from Catelyn’s wrath if he disobeyed.


	4. Catelyn

There was something satisfying about looking around the table of the war council and knowing that soon enough they would all be at Catelyn’s mercy.

One way or another the life of every man around the table would soon be Catelyn’s to do with as she wished.

Her Uncle had already sworn his loyalty to her, his life was already hers. He was her most loyal servant, and she was already deciding who to gift him as a reward, perhaps he would like one of the Royces or maybe even Robert Baratheon to make his own. 

Ned was her pretty pet already, her husband who was starting to accept his place in her bedchamber and kneeling by her side. And through him she already had Brandon Stark, he would not dare make one single step against her while she held his younger siblings hostage. 

She had already decided she was going to kill Jon Arryn, she had no need for him at all, not when his heir was much prettier and less stuck in his ways. And if removing Arryn meant that Ned would have one fewer people to turn to, to spread his affections amongst, well that was merely a bonus.

Most of the minor lords she would allow to return home, they would not rise against her if their liege’s forbade it, although she supposed it would not hurt to take one or two of the prettier ones. They would serve well enough for Lysa, serve well enough to join Benjen Stark and little Petyr.

As for Robert Baratheon? Well, she was in two minds about what she wanted to do to him. About whether she wanted to take his brothers hostage and use them to make him behave, the way she had with the Starks, or whether she wanted to break him. If she broke him then she would gladly keep him or give him to Uncle Brynden, he’d look so lovely curled up at their feet or with a collar wrapped around his neck.

Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Ned flinched next to her. It was a tiny flinch, one no one else would have noticed, but it made her smooth her expression all the same. She didn’t want her plans to be discovered because she couldn’t keep a Cyvasse face after all.

“Lady Tully,” Jon Arryn’s voice rang across the table, “I presume you shall not be leading your own troops.” He smiled a grandfatherly smile that she wanted to claw off his face, “Who is it that you shall give the command of your armies?”

Catelyn smiled back, a venomous smile disguised as a sweet one, “Eddard best knows your commanding styles, he shall receive command of the troops that are leaving the Riverlands. Those that remain shall be led by my uncle.”

Ned was not stupid enough to try anything while away from her. Not while she held Benjen hostage. 

She could let him take her armies and be secure in the knowledge that he would return to his proper place by her side. That he would not attempt any form of rebellion.

“You are splitting your forces? You are not sending all your men into this war that you have declared?” Robert Baratheon scowled, “Are you craven, Lady Tully? Are you making us your attack dogs?”

Catelyn let her smile turn unmistakably cold and cruel, and her hand tightened on the table until her knuckles were white.

“Do you know which land suffers every time there is a war in Westeros?” She asked with poisoned sweetness, “Do you know who’s people bleed every time a lord calls their banners?”

His bright blue eyes met her challengingly, and Catelyn’s mind was made up. It would be a  _ joy  _ to break his arrogance, to reduce him to nothing more than a dog begging for her attention.

“Who, Lady Tully? Who do you think suffers the most?” His voice was arrogant with youth, and she could hardly wait to hear that arrogance taken from him.

“The Riverlands.” Catelyn leaned forwards, “My people bleed and die every time a war is fought in Westeros, and I refuse to leave them defenceless.”

He backed down a little, with obvious reluctance, but Catelyn had given him no other choice. She passed the rest of the council in contemplation of the map, and of the inlets she could make into her own plans while the rebellion raged. 

The men filtered out eventually, even Ned when she gently pushed his back, leaving her alone with her uncle. 

“I have a task for you, uncle.” Cat smiled at the way Brynden’s eyes lit up, he was eager to obey her orders now she had proven herself.

“What would you have me do, sweetling?” 

Catelyn danced her fingers across the map, “You are not needed on the rebellion battlefield, I believe, not when Ned and Brandon both know the price of failing me. Instead, I think we might have an opportunity to push our territory further.”

Brynden’s eyes followed the path her fingers took, and they lit up as he realised that path she had chosen for them.

“That is very sly of you, niece, I presume you wish to do the same conquest you did in the North? A silent one with hostages to ensure collaboration?” He sounded excited at the prospect, and Catelyn was once again pleased to have her uncle by her side.

“I do.” She confirmed, “If my information is correct there are three sons and a daughter available to choose from. Bring me the eldest and youngest sons; and their mother as well. They should serve as a deterrent enough for any attempt of Balon Greyjoy to resist my rule.”

Her fingers traced the shape of Pyke once more, she was looking forward to having Alannys Harlaw as a  _ permanent  _ guest.

* * *

Catelyn groaned at the way the Ned filled her. He felt hot inside her, and stretched her comfortably full.

It was as though he had been sculpted by the Seven themselves to be her perfect fit.

She rocked on him, savouring the way he moved within her and brushed against the spot that gave her pleasure. 

It had filled her with trepidation at first, the thought of allowing him inside her. Cat had felt a little anxiety at the thought of him growing bold from such an action, of him deciding to challenge her for dominance in their relationship.

And yet, she needed to take him in such a way, she needed an heir. An heir would solidify her lineage and line of succession, and would ensure that her legacy would last. 

It had been an anxiety she had easily resolved however, one that merely required a few silk ribbons. 

She had bound his wrists to the bedposts, as tight as she had dared without causing him harm, and made it so that the only warmth his naked body received was from her touch.

He had both pressed into her touch and leaned away when she had stroked him to hardness, his mind and body in disagreement.

“Good boy.” She groaned again, “So good for me.” 

His hips stuttered and moved, his body reaction to the praise she lavished on him and made him crave.

He let out a sweet whine, one which she rewarded with a twist of her hips.

“Such a sweet sound.” She praised, “Do you want to come, my darling Ned?”

He let out another little whine, but that was not what she wanted from him. She wanted him to beg and plead.

Catelyn ran her nails down his chest, digging them in and leaving bright red scratches and the occasional bead of bright red blood.

“I asked you a question, sweetling.” Catelyn hissed softly, “And I expect an answer.”

The fear in his eyes was beautiful, as was the answer he stuttered out.

“My lady… please… please.”

His trembling was so sweet, and Catelyn could not help herself from taking her nails down his chest again.

“Again Ned, ask me again.” She twisted her hips slightly to punctuate her sentence and delighted in the groan he bit out.

“Please, please, my lady.” He sobbed, “Please let me come.”

Cat let him stew for a moment more, shifting on his cock and driving him incoherent with sensation.

“Very well, sweetling, you may come.” She finally said magnanimously, as though she was doing him a favour instead of them coming to the reason why she was allowing him inside her anyway. “But only after I do.”

The hope that had filled his face abruptly died and he started to whine pitifully as she started to move faster, chasing her own pleasure.

Her pleasure built up inside, until she found release with a shout, clenching around her sweet husband and clawing at him again.

It seemed that not even the pain of her nails could stop him from following her over the edge though as she clenched around him. He too came with a bitten off groan, filling her with his seed and pulling on his bonds.

Catelyn clenched around him once more as she settled back down, enjoying the way he shuddered from overstimulation. With any luck she would soon have an heir growing within her, not that it would stop her having fun with her sweet Eddard of course. 

* * *

Catelyn was not going to let her sweet husband leave without a reminder of her ownership of him. Who knew what he might do if she let him taste freedom? Who knew what thoughts might enter his pretty head, or the beds he might choose to grace?

She did not want to have to punish him for being tempted or for being goaded into something by his fellow commanders. Not when a reminder of her possession would make him think twice about betraying her.

It made her wet to think about wrapping her gift around him, about him thanking her properly for her generosity, and she rubbed her legs together beneath her gown.

Patience was not her strong suit, not when she did not have to wait. And she never had to wait long for Ned, not when he was bound to serve her every whim.

She summoned him with a quick order to one of the many page boys that raced around Riverrun. Only a fool would trust them with any sensitive information, but a wife wanting to see her husband before he went off to war was not suspicious to anyone, not even the Spider.

She barely had to wait before hearing his footsteps down the corridor, she’d trained him well. He always came quickly, likely scared of what she would do if he kept her waiting.

As well he should, for she had a punishment all ready for when he next displeased her.

Catelyn settled herself in her favourite chair, and placed Ned’s cushion on the floor by her feet. It had been a reward for his good behaviour, and she was keen to make sure he remembered that she could be kind as well as cruel.

“My lady.” He bowed his head upon entering the room, and she took a moment to appreciate just how pretty he looked in the blue silk she had chosen to dress him in.

“Come here.” She ordered gently, gesturing at the cushion, but he was already moving before she finished the first word.

They had a routine of sorts, and he seemed to understand his place now. Her sweet husband understood that his place was kneeling at her side, that he was beneath her.

“Good boy.” She stroked a hand over Ned’s hair, “Doesn’t it feel right kneeling by my side?”

He let out a sweet little sigh, “Yes, my lady.”

She did not know if he was telling the truth, and frankly she did not care. If he repeated the sentiment enough times, if she told him it was truth enough times, slowly but surely he would begin to believe it.

“I have a gift for you, darling Ned. One I want you to wear always.”

He glanced up at her, his eyes wary, and Cat found herself growing even wetter at the sight.

She pulled the wooden box on the table into her hands and carefully opened it. She took a moment to enjoy the sight of the object within, the delicate circlet of leather that she had commissioned.

Her hands were steady as she unclasped it, and then swiftly buckled it around her husband’s neck.

The scarlet leather contrasted beautifully against the delicate skin of Ned’s neck; a line of blood declaring her ownership to the world.

He let out a gasp as the lock clicked shut, and his hand reached up to touch the buttery leather.

“My lady?” He sounded almost scared, a sound that was very pleasing indeed.

Catelyn smiled indulgently, “So you do not forget who you belong to.” Her smile turned sharp, “And so you do not forget the consequences your brother will face if you dare to try and move against me.”

He swallowed heavily, and the collar bobbed attractively as he did so. She wanted nothing more than to twine her hands through the collar, to cut off his breath and watch him panic.

But she was kind and did not touch him. Instead, she spread her legs and crooked a finger.

“Come Ned, show me how thankful you are for my gift.”

Ned’s eyes met hers again, and with a strange mixture of pleasure and resignation he shuffled forwards to duck under her skirt


	5. Chapter 5

Catelyn’s lips curled up into a pleased smile at the sight before her, at the evidence of her uncle’s success. 

It was so nice to have some good news.

“Lady Greyjoy,” Catelyn swept forwards, enjoying the whispering of her shirts against the stone, “And these must be two of your sons as well, I’m so pleased to meet you.”

The Lady of the Iron Islands pulled her lips back into a snarl, one that reminded Cat of how Brandon Stark had fought against her at first. It wouldn’t take too long to break her though, not when Catelyn had the perfect leverage to use against her.

“I would say it is a pleasure, but I do not believe it is so.” Lady Alannys said with an expression as though she had just smelled something foul.

The small boy against her neck let out a whimper and clung tighter to his mother, too young and scared perhaps to be trying to be a fearless Ironborn like his older brother.

“Let us go!” The older boy demanded, his face filled with the arrogance of youth, his limbs gangly as though he was going through his first real growth spurt. 

It was sweet in a way, to see a boy of four and ten try so hard to defend his family, a little like a puppy yapping at a dog much bigger than itself.

Of course, Catelyn could not let such disrespect stand at all, not when starting off with a gentle touch might foster rebellion later on.

She slapped the boy so hard that his head snapped to one side and the sound rang out in the room. 

“You do not speak that way to me.” Catelyn said calmly, “I expect you to be respectful at all times, any rudeness or disrespect will be punished immediately.”

It was probably too much to have expected some civility from the boy, a fact that was proven when he spat at her face. 

The spittle flew through the air and landed on her cheek. Silence filled the room as everyone waited to see how Catelyn would react, to see how angry she would become.

But Catelyn remained calm.

She wiped the spittle from her face with a linen square. Folded the square neatly. And handed it to her uncle. 

Then she backhanded Lady Alannys so hard that it was only sheer force of will that the Lady did not fall to the floor.

The two older Greyjoys stared at her in mute horror, matching red marks on their cheeks, and the youngest started to cry pitifully. 

“Give him here.” Catelyn ordered, holding out her arms to take the boy. When Lady Alannys did not move she huffed impatiently, “Give him to me. Now.”

With obvious fear and reluctance Lady Alannys handed over her child. She had probably decided that Catelyn would do something horrible to her or her sons if she did not obey.

She was not wrong.

The boy was too light in Catelyn’s arms, far lighter than she knew children to usually be. Then again, there were food shortages all over Westeros with the Rebellion going on and the Iron Islands relied on food from the rest of Westeros more than most other kingdoms. 

She would have to feed him up, if she wanted him to be the perfect companion for her heir.

“What’s your name, sweetling?” She crooned, bouncing the boy in her arms, “Do you think you can tell me?”

The boy sniffled and whimpered and stilled in her arms. He slowly raised his head so he could look her in the eyes.

“Th- Theon, my lady.” He whispered.

“Theon? What a lovely name for such a strong boy. Tell me, Theon, who is here with you, do you think you can tell me that?”

“That’s Mama, and- and Roddy, and Ser Blackfish.” Theon seemed to pick up confidence a little as he spoke, enough to lift his head and look her in the eye, “Ser Blackfish gave me a sweet when Mama was crying. Why was Mama crying?”

Catelyn smiled. She was aware that it probably wasn’t a very nice smile, but the little boy didn’t even flinch.

“Your mama was crying because she was sad, Little One, and she was sad because you aren’t going home again for a long while.”

A horrified gasp had her looking back up at Lady Alannys, the lady’s eyes were wide with grief and a terrible sudden understanding of her place.

“But- but Yara?” The little boy suddenly seemed to become very distressed, “What about Yara?”

That must have been the name of the girl, the daughter that Catelyn had allowed Lord Greyjoy to keep, along with his second son. 

“Perhaps if you and your brother and mother are very good, sweetling, you can see Yara again.” Catelyn vowed, “She might even be able to come here for a visit, wouldn’t that be nice?”

The little boy nodded reluctantly, but behind him his mother and brother started to shake their heads. 

“Of course, that’s only if you are all  _ very  _ well behaved.” Catelyn bared her teeth at Alannys, “Or if you all misbehave terribly.”

It probably shouldn’t have been so satisfying to see Lady Alannys pale so dramatically. 

* * *

‘ _ My sweet husband, _

_ I write to you with glad news! You are soon to be a father! _

_ My thoughts are with you while you are away, as I am sure yours are with me. _

_ Are you still wearing my gift? I shall be so very disappointed if you have lost it, and I am sure Benjen will be as well. _

_ Lady Greyjoy has come to stay in Riverrun, bringing with her two of her sons. It is so nice to have company again, but that does not stop me missing you. _

_ All my love, _

_ Catelyn.’ _

Catelyn had thought long and hard about what to say to her sweet husband, about what she could say to him. She did not want to give away any of her plans through a message, not when the element of surprise was still one of her greatest advantages. 

(She had heard that they had beaten Jon Connigton, an achievement to be sure, and yet Catelyn could not help but wonder how to turn it to her advantage.)

The thoughts of her sweet husband made Catelyn regret having him so far away. She wanted to pin him down and ride him, wanted to throw him to the bed and take him like he was her wife, wanted to thrust his head under her skirts and make him lick her to completion.

A wetness started to form in her small clothes, one that she would have no choice but to take care of herself while her husband was apart from her.

… Except she did have a choice. There was another in Riverrun who was under her power, another who she had wished to add to her collection. 

There was Lady Alannys Greyjoy.

Alannys Greyjoy who Catelyn had influence over with the safety of her sons. Alannys Greyjoy who knew that her comfort relied upon making her captor happy. 

She rang a bell to summon someone to bring her the Lady, none of her men would dare betray her, not when she had just secured them safety from the Ironborn.

All she had to do was wait, and as she waited her arousal grew. Thoughts of what she could do to the Lady Greyjoy swirled around her mind.

There were so many options. So many choices. 

But then, one thing Catelyn did have was time. 

She placed a cushion on the floor by her feet in preparation, not Ned’s cushion of course, but one equally as thick and comfortable. She would not have it said that she mistreated her belongings. 

Lady Alannys was pale and trembling as she entered, but her head was held high and she met Catelyn’s eyes directly.

“Lady Alannys.” Catelyn smiled, “Come.”

Alannys stalked over, every ounce of her being radiating hatred for Catelyn. 

“I am going to offer you a choice, my lady.” Catelyn said, inspecting her nails with a deliberately casual air, “You will kneel beside me and do exactly as I say, or your son will.”

Catelyn had no plans on touching either Rodrik or Theon, they were both a little young for her tastes. She might be cruel and deemed a monster by those she had conquered, but she still would not stoop so low as to touch a child.

It was an effective threat through, for almost as soon as she had finished uttering it the Lady of the Iron Islands fell to her knees.

She dropped where she was standing, meaning that her knees must have collided with the hard floor rather painfully, but Alannys gave no indication of pain.

“Good girl.” Catelyn grinned, “What a good choice you made. But surely the floor is too hard for your tender knees, come and use the cushion I’ve been kind enough to lay out for you.”

Pure hatred flashed across Alannys’ face, before it settled back into its placid expression, but she did as Catelyn had ordered. 

Undoubtedly Alannys would be a challenge to train, to break and mold exactly how Catelyn wanted her. Cat was looking forward to the challenge, and how much it would differ from how she dealt with Ned.

“Thank me for my kindness.” She ordered, once Alannys was upon the cushion.

“Thank you, my lady.” Alannys gritted out, her thanks anything but sincere.

Catelyn frowned, there was something wrong with the words which Alannys had spoken. It wasn’t the tone - that she had accepted and anticipated - but perhaps it was the words themselves. Ned was the only one to call her ‘my lady’ from his knees, and it felt almost as though she was betraying something to hear it from Alannys.

“Hmm,” She pressed her lips together and considered her options, pleased with the fear that filled Alannys’ face upon hearing her displeasure, “I don’t think ‘my lady’ is quite appropriate. ‘Your Grace’ is so much better, wouldn’t you agree?”

Alannys sighed and ducked her head, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Excellent. That really did sound perfect coming from her, even as obviously reluctant as it was. 

“Stand up.” Catelyn ordered, “And remove your gown. I want to see you properly.”

Alannys lifted her chin and refused to move. 

“Is this really the hill you are choosing to die upon?” Catelyn sighed, “Very well, if that’s your choice then I shall have Rodrik sent to me.”

“No, please!” Alannys shot to her feet, “Not Rodrik, please.”

“Well, you know what to do then don’t you? Obey me, and strip.”

Catelyn had never seen anyone disrobe so fast before, Alannys’ clothes fell to the floor with an incredible speed. 

The lady still looked proud as she kept her head held high. She seemed to be unaffected by her nakedness, the only sign she was at all aware of it was the slight shiver that wracked her frame.

Alannys Greyjoy was no great beauty, not really, and yet Catelyn found her form to be beautiful. Her full breasts and narrow hips, even the stretch marks that snaked across her belly.

“Come closer.” Catelyn urged, crooking a finger, “Come to me.”

Alannys reluctantly came closer, and Catelyn let her tarry, she was in no rush. Not when it only made Alannys’ yelp as she roughly pulled her onto her lap all the sweeter.

Catelyn spread her legs, forcibly making Alannys spread her own from where she was straddling her. 

“Your Grace?” Her voice was high pitched and scared, and sent a bolt of lust through Catelyn’s veins.

She grinned and started to grope Alannys, enjoying the way she squirmed beneath her hands and the tiny noises that seemed to escape no matter how hard she bit her lip.

She kept one hand at Alannys’ breasts while her other slipped down to find her core.

Alannys’ eyes met her with terror at the first touch to her clit, as Catelyn first started to rub at her.

“Please-“ 

“As pretty as your begging might be, I do not wish to hear it this time. The only thing I want to hear are your pretty noises, my pet.” Catelyn interrupted.

She leaned forwards to pull Alannys’ already swollen lips into a harsh, bruising kiss. 

Wetness started to pool around her fingers, and Catelyn found herself swallowing a gasp that escaped from Alannys’ mouth.

“Good girl.” She praised, moving her fingers faster, and not breaking the kiss, “That’s it, sweet girl, just let yourself go.”

She kept moving, kept offering Alannys more and more stimulation until her eyes started to become dazed from pleasure. 

She could feel Alannys’ thighs start to tremble, could feel her breath start to come in shorter pants and knew that she was about to come.

Just as she felt Alannys was almost at her peak she pulled her hands away, leaving her utterly bereft of stimulation.

Alannys let out a pitiful whine, and her dazed eyes met Catelyn’s with obvious confusion.

Catelyn did not bother to hide her cruel smirk as she dumped Alannys on the rug before the fire.

“Only good girls get to come, and you have not shown me how good you are yet.” 

She stood and left the Lady of the Iron Islands in her undignified sprawl on the rug, it was not until she reached the door that she turned back and addressed Alannys again.

“If you put yourself into a pleasing position for me to return to, then you may come when I next play with you. If not, well, I’m sure that it won’t be long before your desperation rises.” She let a hint of additional cruelty enter her voice, “And if you touch yourself, then I shall know, and the fingers you used will be removed from one of your sons.”

She shut the door with an enjoyable finality, Alannys’ scream of rage and frustration following her down the corridor.

Oh yes, Alannys Greyjoy was going to be  _ fun  _ to break.


End file.
